Chicken Enchilada Nachos

April. The world is reopening — slowly, with masks still, with the cautious optimism of people who have been burned before. The vaccination rate is climbing. The school announced in-person full return for fall. I walked through the building on a Saturday in early April and it looked different knowing the full hallways were coming back. I stood in the main gym and looked at the bleachers and thought: in September there will be a crowd here again. A crowd. People together. That specific noise.

I've been running this spring. Not for conditioning — I coach conditioning, I don't need it for myself the way I once did — but for mental health, which is the honest reason most adults who run regularly run. Six miles in the morning before the house wakes up. The Front Range at six AM in April is cold and clear and mine. Nobody needs anything from me at six AM. I am nobody's coach or father or husband for forty-five minutes. I am just a man running and the mountain is just a mountain.

Hector is having more good weeks than bad. Marisol tracks these things carefully and reports to me with the precision of a project manager: "three good weeks, the trip to El Paso last Tuesday wore him out, but he's back." I absorb these reports and update my model of him. He is a man in the middle of a trajectory that I know will end. We're just not at that part yet. Today I'm talking to him on the phone twice a week and he's telling me jokes he's been saving and he still knows when the calabacitas needs more cumin. Today is enough.

Green chile chicken quesadillas on Sunday. Simple, fast, with good cheese and the last of the frozen Hatch from September. The official end-of-frozen-chile season. By September I'll have new green chile. The cycle continues.

Those Sunday quesadillas got me thinking about what else I could do with the last of the frozen Hatch before it was gone for good — and Chicken Enchilada Nachos turned out to be the answer. Same core idea: good chicken, good chile, good cheese, fast enough that dinner doesn’t eat into the part of the evening I’ve been guarding. The kind of food that doesn’t ask anything of you except to sit down and eat it.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 25 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 bag (13 oz) sturdy tortilla chips
2 cups cooked shredded chicken (rotisserie works well)
1 can (10 oz) red enchilada sauce
1/2 cup diced roasted green chiles (fresh-roasted, frozen, or canned)
1 can (15 oz) black beans, drained and rinsed
2 cups shredded Mexican cheese blend
1/2 cup sliced pickled jalapeños
1/2 teaspoon cumin
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
Salt and black pepper to taste
Sour cream, for serving
Fresh cilantro and sliced green onions, for serving
Lime wedges, for serving

Instructions

Preheat oven. Heat oven to 400°F. Line a large rimmed baking sheet with foil and lightly coat with cooking spray.
Season the chicken. Toss shredded chicken with cumin, garlic powder, salt, and pepper until evenly coated.
Layer the nachos. Spread tortilla chips in an even layer on the prepared baking sheet. Scatter black beans and seasoned chicken evenly over the chips.
Add the chile and sauce. Spoon green chiles over the top, then drizzle enchilada sauce evenly across the entire pan.
Top with cheese. Distribute shredded cheese generously over everything. Scatter jalapeño slices on top.
Bake. Bake for 12–15 minutes, until cheese is fully melted and bubbling and the edges of the chips are just starting to crisp.
Finish and serve. Remove from oven and immediately top with sour cream, fresh cilantro, and sliced green onions. Serve with lime wedges on the side. Eat straight from the pan.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chicken Enchilada Nachos — The Last of the Frozen Hatch